Be Thou My Good: Chapter 18 (Patreon)

Chapter 18: Hunting for Hunters

“It really is nice to see you again, Miss Weaver,” John’s mother said.

“I’d say call me Taylor,” I replied, “but that would be more confusing.”

“Not sure what your mother was thinking, with a name like that, but you’ve clearly made the most of it.”

I smiled. “Thank you for saying so.” Talking about the evolution of names and how ‘tailors’ had become much less relevant on Earth really wasn’t needed.

Mrs. Hunter bustled me into the main room of the house, where a small dining table was already set with food. Hunter gave me a searching look from his seat, one that flickered towards Indrani when she shuffled after.

“Oh, another one of John’s friends dropped by earlier as well!” Mrs. Hunter continued. “Some thing with the loveliest hair was interested in my preserves. Can you believe it? Me, selling jam to the Blessed?” She laughed.

“I eat your Jam all the time, Mom,” Hunter said.

Indrani let out a hiss of air perilously close to a snort. I jabbed her in the ribs; she was the reason we were here after all.

“Oh, I know, dear.” The older woman ruffled John’s hair. “It’s just…nice to be appreciated is all.”

After we decided to recruit Beastmaster, the next question was where to find him. Archer told me he moved his camp often and laid false trails with his beasts to throw off the other Named in Refuge. They were such a cheerfully connected bunch.

“Do you think you can track him down?” I’d asked her.

“Well.” She’d shrugged with a playful grin. “Not quickly.”

It had been the closest I’d ever heard to Indrani praising someone’s abilities. I could have left her to it, but we really didn’t have the time. Ranger wasn’t in Refuge, but I didn’t think she’d appreciate what I was doing upon her return.

So, I’d said to Archer, “Do you know who can find him faster?”

And now here we were.

“Hey Hunter, Mrs. H.”

“Oh, please.” Despite demurring, she looked quite pleased at the name. “Call me Brienna. And take a seat! The food’s getting cold.”

“Thank you.” I pulled out a chair. Archer slipped into it before I could, and I let out a fond huff before taking the last chair. “Where’s Hunter’s father?”

“Sleeping, the big lug.” Brienna shook her head fondly. “I can’t blame him though, he’s the one who kneads the dough and heats the ovens every morning, lets me get another hour of rest. What brings you back to our humble shop?”

I waited for a moment, but Archer just leaned back in her wooden chair, studying the ceiling with aggressive nonchalance.

“I wanted to see how you were doing,” I said. “You and your son are the only people I know in Refuge aside from Archer. Well, I met Beastmaster and the rest of the kids—” I ignored Drani’s spluttering, “but between the two of us, they’re not very good company.”

“Oh, John used to tell me about all the mischief they got up to.” She sighed fondly. “Now though, it’s hard to pry a word out of him. Why—”

“Why’s Archer here?” John cut in. I hid a smile. “You, I’d almost believe, but the last time Indrani checked in on me, it’s ‘cause I got locked in a cell.”

That caused a bit of a strain in his mother’s smile, but she was a native to Refuge, and the first rule of Refuge was don’t get in the way of the named.

“Can’t a girl stop by to see a friend?” Archer asked.

Hunter made a show of looking around the room. “Which one?”

“You’re a riot.”

Hunter grunted.

She sighed. “Fine. I wanted to wait until dinner was over first, but since some people have no patience. We need you to track down Beastmaster for us.”

He chewed on that for a second, before a small smile crossed his features. “Thought you said I was useless.”

“You know,” Indrani replied. “I think I did.”

Mrs. Hunter started to look a bit tense, so I took a roll. The table was mostly set with bread, along with some steamed vegetables and a stew. I bit leisurely into my roll as Hunter and Archer glared at each other across the table. “This really is quite good.” I luxuriated in the softy doughiness.

If there was one place were food in my last life fell short, it was bread. I don’t think I’d ever had a handmade loaf; storebought just didn’t compare.

“Thank you, dearie…”

I continued to eat and chat lightly with John’s mother, even as the two of them started snipping at each other again.

“Not sure why you’d want someone useless along,” Hunter started.

“Can you get over yourself.” Archer rolled her eyes. “I say a lot of things.”

“Yeah, you really do.”

“How did Concoctor like your preserves?” I asked Brienna.

For her part, she seemed almost relieved to have something else to focus on. “Oh, she did something with a little glass phial, but I’m never bothered by the strange things that Blessed do. Why, when John first started bringing back trophies from his hunts, that was—”

“Mom-!” Hunter’s voice almost cracked.

“Hmm? What is it, dear?”

I hid my expression with a sip from my mug, but Archer couldn’t stifle a snicker.

Mrs. Hunter apparently had enough of her shit as well, when she added, “And don’t get me started on you, Miss Archer. Why, I still remember when you managed to shoot yourself during an archery contest.”

That was enough to turn them both red; I imagined they weren’t used to taking a verbal lashing from an unassuming baker.

I set my mug down before the surprise could metastasize into anger. “You’re surprisingly good at wrangling Named, Mrs. Hunter,” I said. “Maybe I should take you along on this adventure instead.”

“Oh, well, that’s…” She blinked a few times in surprise. “That’s kind of you to say.”

I turned my gaze back to the two teenagers in the room. “Do you two need a minute to talk?”

Indrani huffed, standing up. “Sure. John, let’s talk.”

She strode blithely from the room.

Hunter looked at me, and I shrugged. “Your choice.”

“You set this up,” he replied.

“Sure.” I leaned back calmly in my chair. “So that you could have a chance to talk, if you wanted.”

He fixed me with a long stare, but just like Archer, he couldn’t back down from a challenge.

I continued sipping from my mug while the both of them walked outside and had their little heart to heart. Somehow, it didn’t immediately turn into screaming.

“Why did you come here, Miss Weaver?” Brienna asked.

I raised an eyebrow. “Didn’t Archer tell you?”

“Yes well, it seems to me that you very well could have convinced John to help you out on your own,” she replied. “My boy seems to like you well enough. But you brought another one of…Lady Ranger’s pupils as well.”

I hummed.

“I just want to know what game you’re playing with my son.”

“Game?” I shook my head. “I’m not playing a game, Ma’am. I’ve just spent my whole life until now furious that people never talk to each other. And now I’ve found myself in a position to do something about it.”

She didn’t know what to say to that, so we sat in silence until the two named came back to table.

Neither offered a summary. Hunter looked pensive, eyes tracing the wood grain. Archer, for her part, leaned back in her chair with a cheery grin. “We gonna eat?”

It wasn’t the tersest meal I’d ever shared. About halfway through, Indrani made a joke, and Hunter responded to it. That seemed to break the tension. The Weave slackened, becoming quiescent. I took that to mean I’d accomplished everything I could here, and instead focused on savoring every bite of those delightful little rolls.

I very much doubted that the story between Hunter and Archer was concluded, but now perhaps it could reach a conclusion in the future.

After the meal, the three of us thanked Mrs. Hunter profusely, and she’d stopped her son with a gentle hand and a searching look, before offering a simple ‘stay safe’.

Then we went hunting.

I could confidently say that we never would have found Beastmaster on our own. Oh, Indrani was skilled in woodcraft, and she knew her hometown, but the very Weave of the fabric seemed to pull us away and divert us. The waning woods disliked having secrets pried from it, and apparently Beastmaster was one such secret.

Hunter, on the other hand, was the one the woods loved showing secrets too.

He followed signs that I couldn’t even glimpse, and more than once dragged Archer along behind him from where she’d been poking at something on the ground.

I was half convinced she only did that to make him feel better, but either way.

We came upon Beastmaster several hours east of Refuge, in a small glade that didn’t seem to exist until we broke through the trees surrounding it. Archer let out a low whistle at the sight. “Got yourself some new tricks, old man.”

The vulture on Beastmaster’s shoulders ruffled its feathers aggressively, but for his part, the other named continued tending to the small wolf pup at his knee. It wriggled, snapping at him with bright white teeth that Beastmaster skillfully avoided.

I saw another splotch of white in the fabric wrapped around a brace between its hind legs. He was slowly adjusting it, no doubt to fix something in the pup’s posture. I noticed it was thin, fur uncared for. Abandoned?

I folded my arms and waited.

At length, Beast Master said, “Thought we were all done with your talking.”

“I had another question,” I replied.

The man grunted.

“Does it bother you?” I took a step closer. “That Ranger has raised you all with less care than you’ve shown that pup?”